Ask and ye shall receive
So, in my whine the other day, I believe I said that playing a break-even game is the worst possible scenario for a poker player. Of course we all want to win, but I said that even losing is preferrable that a long streak of breaking even. Give me either, I said, and I would be happy.
Presto! I got my wish. Now I have a whopping $2 left in my Poker Room account after an extended evening of much crying and gnashing of teeth.
Thankfully, I've not depleted the entire bankroll, like I did last year. But I am sooooooo frustrated and burnt-out. And that's not a good mental state to be in with the blogger tourney coming up this weekend. I would really like to do well in that, mostly because there's just all sorts of nifty prizes to be had, any one of which would make me happy. But if I can't improve my state of mind between now and then, I have the feeling I'll just end up donating my stack within the first half-hour, but not before telling the beneficiary of my largesse to go ____ himself.
How bad is it? Well, when is the last time you've won a SNG and been completely pissed off about it? When my final opponent typed in the inevitable "gg" at the conclusion, I was tempted to type back, "not in the slightest." But then I remembered I was at the site where I'm a prop player and one of their rules is that you have to be nice to everybody, no matter how freaking stupid they are.
You see, here's what happened. I was fortunate enough to get great cards throughout the tournament, plus I feel like I played them well to boot, so that when half the players were gone, I already had over half the chips on the table. When we got down to heads-up, I had a 10-to-1 chip lead. First hand heads-up, my opponent moves all-in. I forget what I had, but it was neither spectacular nor vomit-enducing, and since I already had one-third of his bet in the pot as the big blind, I decided to call, hope to get lucky and be done with it. Well, he was of course ahead in the hand and I never improved, so he doubled up. Next hand, he went all-in again, and the next, and the next. Clearly, his strategy was evident by this point. He was hoping to get stupid lucky. I tried making some preflop raises when I did have decent hands, trying to slow him down, but he'd invariably move all-in again and I would have to fold. Finally, he had chipped away at me until my lead was only 2-to-1, and I admit I was getting pissed. Finally, I thought, "Fine, you want to play like a donkey? I can, too," and I pushed all my chips in holding a Q6. He types in, "Oh well, why not," and calls, holding Q10, and I lost the lead. Next hand, he limps and I move all in again, holding something like J3. He called again and I didn't even bother waiting to see what happened while I went to the bathroom. When I got back, I'd somehow won the hand, and it was on me to act again. All-in again and I won again and the tournament was over.
So, why get mad about it? Well, on top of the frustration I'm already feeling, I just felt cheated once a tournament I'd played so well in became a "who can get luckiest" contest. When I play cards, money is really only a secondary consideration for me. I want to play well. Without really meaning to, I've actually come to the point where my goal has become to make the best decisions possible, each and every hand. So I suppose I was angry because I felt I had been robbed of that, and also that my opponent showed no respect for either me or the game by giving me his best game (although I suppose it could be argued that his "strategy" was apparently working).
I don't know why I allow myself to get like this, but when it happens, I can sort of relate to Phil Hellmuth (who we got to see lose his chance for a 10th bracelet last night, while at the same time all but clinch the Biggest Asshole Award). Someday, though, I'm going to learn to get away from the game before the game gets away from me. When I come back from a break, I usually go on a tear at the tables, mopping up every chip put before me for a period of 3-to-6 weeks. After that, my game starts fading, and I'll be a little less profitable for awhile, then break-even for awhile, and finally my bankroll develops anemia and I bleed chips all over anybody who even gets near me.
You want to know a secret? Here's how you can tell if you're about ready to lose your ass at the poker table. If you are gritting your teeth when you sit down to play, it's pretty much over for you. You'd be better off cashing in your chips and writing a big check to hurricane victims or little kids with cancer. Either way, you're going to be donating.
Obviously, someone is long overdue to take a break from the game.
Presto! I got my wish. Now I have a whopping $2 left in my Poker Room account after an extended evening of much crying and gnashing of teeth.
Thankfully, I've not depleted the entire bankroll, like I did last year. But I am sooooooo frustrated and burnt-out. And that's not a good mental state to be in with the blogger tourney coming up this weekend. I would really like to do well in that, mostly because there's just all sorts of nifty prizes to be had, any one of which would make me happy. But if I can't improve my state of mind between now and then, I have the feeling I'll just end up donating my stack within the first half-hour, but not before telling the beneficiary of my largesse to go ____ himself.
How bad is it? Well, when is the last time you've won a SNG and been completely pissed off about it? When my final opponent typed in the inevitable "gg" at the conclusion, I was tempted to type back, "not in the slightest." But then I remembered I was at the site where I'm a prop player and one of their rules is that you have to be nice to everybody, no matter how freaking stupid they are.
You see, here's what happened. I was fortunate enough to get great cards throughout the tournament, plus I feel like I played them well to boot, so that when half the players were gone, I already had over half the chips on the table. When we got down to heads-up, I had a 10-to-1 chip lead. First hand heads-up, my opponent moves all-in. I forget what I had, but it was neither spectacular nor vomit-enducing, and since I already had one-third of his bet in the pot as the big blind, I decided to call, hope to get lucky and be done with it. Well, he was of course ahead in the hand and I never improved, so he doubled up. Next hand, he went all-in again, and the next, and the next. Clearly, his strategy was evident by this point. He was hoping to get stupid lucky. I tried making some preflop raises when I did have decent hands, trying to slow him down, but he'd invariably move all-in again and I would have to fold. Finally, he had chipped away at me until my lead was only 2-to-1, and I admit I was getting pissed. Finally, I thought, "Fine, you want to play like a donkey? I can, too," and I pushed all my chips in holding a Q6. He types in, "Oh well, why not," and calls, holding Q10, and I lost the lead. Next hand, he limps and I move all in again, holding something like J3. He called again and I didn't even bother waiting to see what happened while I went to the bathroom. When I got back, I'd somehow won the hand, and it was on me to act again. All-in again and I won again and the tournament was over.
So, why get mad about it? Well, on top of the frustration I'm already feeling, I just felt cheated once a tournament I'd played so well in became a "who can get luckiest" contest. When I play cards, money is really only a secondary consideration for me. I want to play well. Without really meaning to, I've actually come to the point where my goal has become to make the best decisions possible, each and every hand. So I suppose I was angry because I felt I had been robbed of that, and also that my opponent showed no respect for either me or the game by giving me his best game (although I suppose it could be argued that his "strategy" was apparently working).
I don't know why I allow myself to get like this, but when it happens, I can sort of relate to Phil Hellmuth (who we got to see lose his chance for a 10th bracelet last night, while at the same time all but clinch the Biggest Asshole Award). Someday, though, I'm going to learn to get away from the game before the game gets away from me. When I come back from a break, I usually go on a tear at the tables, mopping up every chip put before me for a period of 3-to-6 weeks. After that, my game starts fading, and I'll be a little less profitable for awhile, then break-even for awhile, and finally my bankroll develops anemia and I bleed chips all over anybody who even gets near me.
You want to know a secret? Here's how you can tell if you're about ready to lose your ass at the poker table. If you are gritting your teeth when you sit down to play, it's pretty much over for you. You'd be better off cashing in your chips and writing a big check to hurricane victims or little kids with cancer. Either way, you're going to be donating.
Obviously, someone is long overdue to take a break from the game.
1 Comments:
Prince "invented Internet 170 years ago"
A RUSSIAN WEB SITE has claimed that the Internet and in particular blogging, was invented by a Russian Prince in 1837.
Thought you would like to know that.
later,
Mohawk Man
Travel in style with private jets
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